Comfortably Numb
by CutestSPNFanEver
Summary: We take a look at the life of Claire Novak, 4 years after the night she was possessed by an angel and lost her father forever. I depicted her as troubled, self medicating and drinking to numb the pain of what happened. She has persistent nightmares and is desperate for information as to what exactly happened that night. Can she handle what she finds? Rated T just to be safe!


**Chapter 1**

**Authors Note: This story and my other might go a week without being updated, as it is benchmark week.. :( However! I hope you enjoy this little creation of mine, I don't feel like we got to see enough of Claire, so I decided to take some creative liberty with the character! The first chapter is pretty short, they will progressively get longer as the plot thickens! Thanks for reading!**

******_Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Not Supernatural, any bands or songs I have or will reference, nothing. I'm just having a little bit of fun with them, please don't sue me. I don't have anything, anyways. You'd end up shelling out God knows how much on a lawyer and getting nothing in return. It's in both of our best interests that no lawsuits ensue. Thank you!_**

"Claire!" Amelia screeched, desperately trying to calm her daughter, but finding her too hot to touch. Claire was hovering about 6 inches above her bed, her arms and legs locked in place as if she had been tied down. Her body temperature was nearing 300 degrees Fahrenheit, and for all intents and purposes, she should be dead. But she obviously wasn't, judging by how much screaming she was doing. This was the third time this week she'd had a nightmare, and each was worse than the last. Amelia grabbed her blanket and used it to grab Claire without being burned. "Shh, it's okay honey. It's okay, Claire. Please calm down." She would never get used to this. She'd been doing it almost every night for the 4 years since Jimmy/Castiel had left, but she would never get used to her daughters bloodcurdling screams. Claire woke with a start, dropping back on to her bed, drenched in her own sweat and tears. The frightened teen sobbed into her mothers shoulder before excusing herself to the restroom.

Claire peered at her own reflection in her bathroom mirror, finding it to be somewhat unsettling. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, her face was encrusted with salts from dried tears and sweat. Her face was a brilliant vermillion and her lips were dry and bleeding, as they always were. She pulled on the mirror to reveal a medicine cabinet, that was stocked to its maximum capacity with various medications, ranging from tablets to liquids, and not a single one of them was prescribed to Claire Novak, she selected 3 pill bottles. Opening each and shaking pills from them. She quickly popped them into her mouth and washed them down with a bottle of gin that she pulled from the cabinet under the sink. Taking one long drink of the gin after the pills were already down, her shaking hands calmed, and she got to work washing the sweat off of her face and neck. The cold water felt amazing against her burning skin, and she stared at herself in the mirror again. The salts from her face were gone and her skin had somewhat returned to it's normal shade. She looked into her reflections eyes, there was age there that she didn't possess. The kind of eyes you would expect to see on a soldier, not a teenaged girl. Claire wondered what put that look in her eyes...She could feel the feeling again. The cold feeling she had gotten that night, after saying "yes". She didn't remember what had happened. She remembered saying "yes" for some reason, and an intense freezing cold feeling exploding from her core and enveloping her entire body. Then, the cold feeling was gone, and she was kneeling next to her father. He gave her a vacant glare and walked away. As if he was emotionless. She never saw him again, except on the news for several mass murders and calling himself the new god. That night was when the nightmares had started. That was when this nightmare she called her life had taken it's turn from difficult, having her father go missing for a year, to pure hell. Her mother knew something. Something about that night. Something about what was happening to her. She wanted that information more than anything but her mother was unwilling to share.

The feeling grew stronger in her gut and she found herself over the toilet, throwing up what little strength she had left. She reached up and grabbed the washcloth that she had just wiped her face with, and cleaned the bio hazardous remnants of her internalized pain off of her face, before passing out on the bathroom floor.


End file.
